His Very Heart
by WillowRose26
Summary: Harry has a secret...


Title:His Very Heart

Pairing:Bob/Harry implied

Rated:K+,pretty mild though

Spoilers:nope,not here

Disclaimer:Oh thank you Mr Butcher for giving us Harry and Bob.

Summary:Bob has a secret.But does Harry know it?

It was Bob's best kept secret.

A secret kept well over 300 years.

One that not even his current master/owner/lover Harry knew about.

Not that they were lovers in the true sense-after all,when one is incorporeal,how does one...well...do the 'nasty' with his intended?But Bob and Harry found ways around it,a very voyeuristic hobby that had begun to be really quite the challenge,but always quite fun.Especially when Harry would be taking a shower,and Bob would sneak up on him,literally floating right through the wizard,and he could almost feel Harry's warmth,his arousal,in that split second of residence.Hell,it was much better than reading Dean Koontz novels from the last page,anyways.

Bob smiled to himself as he searched around the small cramped apartment for this item.The one item that he always (usually) kept very close to him,and now he couldn't find it.He looked through the small sitting room Harry entertained clients in,if you called it 'entertaining'.For what it was worth you could barely call the front room a sitting room.A sitting closet was more like it.Bob went on over and over in his mind about Harry's living situation,but he abruptly stopped.Even though Harry had inherited Bob's skull five years before,he didn't have to take him.No,he could have just passed Bob and his empty cranium to Morgan or any one of the weasels in the High Council.But Harry took Bob with him,and the rest was history.

Which seemed what his little trinket was.History.

Bob sighed and as a last resort stuck his head through every shelf in every cupboard,bookcase and drawer he could find.No luck.

Defeated,he hung his head.A sadness crept over him.He had had this,his most prized possession,and now it was gone.Almost gone with his heart,it seemed to him.But his heart belonged to Harry now.He took a deep breath-metaphorically speaking of course-and resigned himself to this scrap being gone forever.

He proceeded to go over to read the last page of the latest Stephen King novel when he heard Harry come in the door.Before he could go to greet him,Harry called out first.

"Bob,I'm just dropping in for a minute,I have to go with Murphy to the old warehouse-looks like Tommy Thom's not dead and buried.I brought you something,it's out on the living room sofa."(as if there was another?thought Bob)"I'll see you tonite for supper.Love ya,wish me luck!"and with that Harry was off with a slam of the door.

"Of all the nerve,just yelling at me like that as if I'm some concubine who hangs on his every word..."Bob mumbled to himself as he made his way to the living room."At least he brought me something,not that I can----"

And he stopped dead in his tracks.

For lying on the sofa,on top of a well used black down comforter,was his prize.The one that he had spent hours looking for.He inspected the fragile quilted heart carefully,hesitantly levitating it and turning it in the air.It was restored to its almost original blood red sheen,and he could breathe in Winifred's scent clearly.She had given it to Bob before she had perished,made by her own hand.Bob never forgot it,and the warmth she had put into its creation was truely felt in what used to be his soul.

Lying next to it was a note,scribbled in Harry's southpaw scrawl:

"Bob,

I know how much this means to you.I had seen it being dragged along by Mister and I felt like I owed you.Bigtime.I had a friend of mine that deals with ancient fabrics touch this up and clean it for you.It hasn't lost any of her essence,and it hasn't lost any of the love she felt for you.

I hope this is ok.

I love you Bob."

And it was signed in Harry's flair,amongst some chicken-scratchings.

Bob couldn't believe it.

The tears started to trickle down his face,then turned into an all-out torrent.He was such an ass for thinking the worst about his heart,that no one find out what it was,and all along Harry had taken it out to be magickally cleaned.He was thankful for Harry.He was not only Bob's master,and pseudo-lover,but above all he was Bob's friend.

And what more could an incorporeal 300-plus years old guy want in his undead life?


End file.
